


A Forced Alliance

by Mengde



Series: Sith Apprentice: Darth Venge [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Sith Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6280141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mengde/pseuds/Mengde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sent by the Jedi Council to investigate reports of prisoners being forced into last-man-standing death matches, Maul finds himself paired in the deadly game with a familiar face.  The two of them have no choice but to cooperate: in this contest, if one of them dies, so does the other.  But Maul will have to watch his back, because his partner is a Sith named Venge...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Bumpy Landing

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Re-Entry Official Timeline](https://archiveofourown.org/works/913029) by [flamethrower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamethrower/pseuds/flamethrower). 



> It's Mengde again! Not going to lie, I have been excited to write this one. More chapters will be coming soon. Thanks again go to flamethrower for originally creating Venge and for norcumi for her tireless signal-boosting.
> 
> As a disclaimer, I have never read or watched the Hunger Games, but have totally read Battle Royale. You may now be accurate when you name the media I am shamelessly ripping off.

_Your mission,_ Mace Windu had said, _is to bring back proof of these illegal prisoner death-matches.  Such barbaric practices may thrive in the Outer Rim, but we can’t allow a Core world to get away with something like this._

Naturally, Maul’s first instinct had been to take the most direct route.  He had obtained an espionage contact lens recorder from one of the Order’s grey-market contacts in Republic Intelligence. Then he had gone to Fondor and robbed a peace officer.

As the burly officer standing in front of him in the cargo section of the landspeeder fastened a shock collar around the Zabrak’s neck, Maul contemplated how easily due process was circumvented when the aggrieved party was a member of the power structure.  In this one instance, it was for the best.  The most rudimentary background check might have revealed he was a Jedi.

“The collar’s got a quadanium power cell,” the officer said to Maul, openly gloating.  “Self-contained, self-recharging.  More than enough juice to put you down.  You step out of line – try to escape, attack your assigned partner, mess with the collar – we hit you with enough volts to discourage you.  Step out of line too many times, we kill you.”  He grinned.  “Lotta people gonna be betting on you.  Scary-looking like you are.”

Maul fixed him with a baleful stare.  He’d been Knighted after Naboo, and could be as genial and compassionate as the next Jedi when he needed to be.  But just as often he found that playing up his fearsome appearance got him results, and he had no qualms about it.  In the last five years, he’d developed a reputation for getting things _done,_ even among his fellow Jedi.

“We drop you, we drop another prisoner afterward next to you, he’s your partner,” the officer continued.  “Last two men standing get to go free.  See?  We’re not all bad.”

Maul’s only response to that assertion was to snarl, silently, at him.

Clearly unnerved, the officer snapped at the men to either side of Maul.  “Okay, drop him!”

One of them hauled open the door of the cargo landspeeder the four of them were in.  Maul got a brief glimpse of a forest outside before the other shoved him out of the speeder.

The vehicle had been going a good clip, so Maul had to roll several times to bleed off his momentum safely.  The ground was soft – rich, loamy soil beneath purple-and-yellow leaves.

“We’ll be dropping your partner in a minute!” the officer jeered as the landspeeder swept away.

Maul scanned his surroundings.  He immediately spotted several self-contained holocam units hidden in the branches of nearby trees.  This entire forest was rigged with them, so bettors could watch the progress of the melee.  The Hutts in particular made and lost fortunes on betting which two-man team would survive to the end of the three-day battle, with a portion of all bets going into the pockets of the corrupt Fondorian officials who ran the event.

He had some time before his partner arrived, so Maul surveyed the nearby trees.  Sighting a long, narrow branch halfway up a nearby trunk, Maul nimbly scaled the arboreal obstacle.  In less than a minute, he reached the branch.  A quick leap onto it, followed by several more standing jumps to apply his weight to the joint, dislodged the branch and gave him the raw materials for a quarterstaff.

Landing adroitly in a crouch, he pulled the special, undetectable plastic knife from the hidden compartment in his right boot sole.  He began whittling down the branch into a proper staff.  It would take some hours, but there was no time like the present.

Only a few minutes later, Maul heard the whine of an approaching landspeeder.  He quickly returned the knife to his boot; being seen with it by the cams was one thing, but having actual, armed men nearby who might try to confiscate it was another.

Just as they had done with Maul, the officers didn’t bother to stop the landspeeder, but merely threw their prisoner out the door.  The man landed just as easily as Maul had.  A faint tone sounded from the collar around the Zabrak’s neck, indicating it had been paired with the other prisoner’s.

When he straightened up and turned to show his face, Maul felt a jolt of horrible recognition ladder up his spine.

_Venge._

* * *

Five years had added a scar to the right side of Venge’s face, but the Sith seemed otherwise unchanged from how Maul remembered him on Naboo.  He gripped his makeshift quarterstaff, waiting for Venge to make the first move.

Dusting himself off, Venge spoke.  “Of course.  The Force _would_ arrange to partner me with _you._ ”

“I could say much the same,” Maul growled.  “What are you doing here, Sith?”

“I could _ask_ much the same,” Venge countered.  “Unless you were foolish enough to get _actually_ thrown in here.”

Maul gave the Sith a withering glare.  “We both know the answer to that.  For both of us.”

Sighing, Venge plopped himself down on a large log.  “So.  We’re both here at the behest of our respective Masters, both for reasons we won’t reveal.  And because we’ve been paired up, we can’t kill one another.  Or even look the other way when the other is in mortal peril.”

That surprised Maul.  “If one of us dies –”

“They electrocute the other, yes,” Venge replied.  “Something they don’t tell people on the way in.  It makes the first combats more entertaining for the audience.”

Maul also sat, settling himself cross-legged on the forest floor.  He laid the branch across his thighs and resumed the task of whittling himself a quarterstaff.  “If you know so much about the competition, tell me how they ensure it only lasts three days.  This is a large forest.”

“All combatants are dropped within a designated zone of a hundred square kilometers.  Leave the zone and your collar begins shocking you – first on a low setting, but increasing as you wander more.”  Venge grinned.  “As soon as all prisoners are offloaded, the zone begins to shrink.”

“Simple,” Maul observed.

“Elegant,” Venge said.

“I did not say that.”

“Of course _you_ didn’t.  You’re a Jedi, it’s not the sort of thing you appreciate.  But to a true connoisseur of violence…”

Maul resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  This turn of events, dangerous as it was, represented a unique opportunity.  Venge was amoral, certainly, definitely sociopathic, undoubtedly a sadist – evil by any standard the Jedi used.  But there was a certain remove about him.  He seemed to lack personal investment in the things he did.

It was possible, Maul thought, that he might be able to build a rapport with Venge.  If he succeeded, he might be able to obtain information about Sith plans, or even make the man reconsider his path.

“So,” Venge said cheerfully when Maul made no reply.  “Still struggling with your anger?”

The knife slipped against the bark with Maul’s surprise.  Its edge sliced a neat furrow into his thigh.  He bared his teeth.

Or Maul might just wait until their collars were removed and kill Venge.  It could go either way.


	2. A Coalescing Dialogue

The first attack came after only an hour in the forest.  Maul and Venge had been traveling silently, having decided to move during the day and camp at night.

Both of them sensed the threat before it materialized.  They whirled to their right to see a Gran and a Weequay barrel out of the undergrowth, heading straight for them with murderous intent.

The Gran charged Maul with a wild, right-handed haymaker.  Maul ducked the swing with almost contemptuous ease.  From his new, crouched position he fired a pair of blows into the Gran’s abdomen.  The three-eyed alien bent double with pain, all air whooshing out of him.  It was simple for Maul to unload an uppercut into the Gran’s chin.  His opponent went flying, instantly unconscious.

Turning, Maul saw Venge deal with the Weequay far more brutally.  As the leathery biped charged the Sith, Venge hurled himself into a forward somersault from a standing position.  As his head passed above the Weequay’s, he scythed his arms down to vise his hands around his enemy’s skull.

Venge’s Force-enhanced momentum and strength lifted the Weequay clear off his feet.  Venge landed, his grip still firm, and hurled the alien over his head five meters into a nearby tree.  There was a shower of leaves, a loud thud, and a wet crack.  A moment later, the Gran screamed as his collar activated, discharging lethal amounts of electric current into him.  He twitched and writhed, and the smell of charred flesh permeated the air.

He kept twitching for quite some time after Maul sensed him die.

Venge made a show of dusting his hands.  “Straightforward enough.”

Maul said nothing.  Better that he let the Sith be the killer.  It would look better on the recording.

Seeing that Maul had nothing to say about the fight, Venge resumed their previous course.  “Why did the Council send you?” he asked after a moment.  “I mean you _particularly._   As opposed to another Jedi.”

“I have a reputation for getting things done,” Maul replied stoically, retrieving his incomplete quarterstaff and hurrying to catch up.  “And other Jedi might have a problem with senseless killing.”

“Meaning you don’t?”

“I oppose it on principle.  But I am a pragmatist.”

“I see.”  Venge considered.  “Do you _like_ it?”

Maul stiffened, but forced himself to keep pace.  “In my experience,” he said, “questions are a two-way road.”

“Meaning?”

“If you insist on interrogating me, then I claim the same right.  Question for question, answer for answer.”

That prompted a laugh from the Sith.  “Fair enough.  So, I’ve asked you two questions, one of which you’ve answered.  What’s _your_ question?  The name of my Master?  Our eventual plan?”

“How did you become a Sith?” Maul asked.

The amusement vanished from Venge’s features.  “That is not a topic of discussion.”

“Neither are my feelings on killing, then,” Maul shot back.

Venge grinned.  “Fair enough.  But I like this game.  Ask me another question, you’re still owed one.”

“Who are you outside your Sith identity?”

“That would be another off-limits topic save for the fact I have no identity _but_ a Sith.”

Confused, Maul asked, “So your only name is Venge?”

“If I answer that, I’m owed a question.”

“Then answer.”

Giving him a searching look, Venge halted to consider.

“My name is Kenobi.”

Maul felt a small twinge of pride.  _Progress._   “No other?”

“That’s two questions I’m owed, and no.  No other.  Whatever name my parents might have given me, my Master didn’t see fit to tell me of.”  He looked the Zabrak up and down.  “So.  ‘Maul?’”

He straightened a bit.  “Given to me, Master Qui-Gon says, by my mother.  For the power she sensed in me.”

“I’d not have expected a Nightsister to give up her child to a Jedi.”

“There is a question in your observation.”

Venge smirked.  “Accepted.”

“Master Qui-Gon did not tell her he was a Jedi,” Maul said.  “He judged deception justified to keep me out of the wrong hands.”

“So he is almost your father,” Venge mused.  “Not a question, don’t answer that.  _This_ is the question, and now you’re owed one: do you love him?”

That threw Maul for a loop.  He considered for some time before admitting, “I do not know.”

"A cheap answer,” Venge scoffed.

“I admire and respect Master Qui-Gon,” Maul said.  “There is much I would do based on nothing but the strength of his word.  His regard, his esteem, are important to me.  But love?”  He shrugged.  “I have no standard of comparison.”

Venge nodded slowly.  “That’s fair.  Another question – no.  I’d rather not be in debt for more than one answer at any given point.”

He was wily, Maul had to give him that.  _Kenobi._   Vaguely, he wondered if he could leverage Venge’s cognomen to find his parents or clan.  From there he might be able to trace the identity of the being who had purchased, adopted, or otherwise claimed him for training as a Sith.  Whoever it was, the being could have been nothing more than an intermediary, but there was always the chance the Sith Lord might have been less than cautious and gone themselves.

“Did you have a choice?” Maul asked, realizing he had been silent for nearly a minute.  “Did you _choose_ to become a Sith?”

“No,” Venge said.  “It was a destiny selected for me.  I imagine you can relate.”

“I can.”

“Now that we’re even, here’s one: how is it, with all the anger, that you’re a Jedi Knight?”

Maul pondered how much of this question to answer.  Mace Windu had been training him in Vaapad for the last five years, teaching him to channel his anger without letting it move him down the dark path.  There was no way the Sith could know about the style’s existence, given that Master Windu had invented it and taught it only to a select few Jedi including Maul.  He was hesitant to reveal anything about it.

“Master Yoda says that darkness is not inherently a weakness,” he finally answered.

Genuine surprise lit up Venge’s face.  “Unbelievable.  The great and powerful Yoda, Master of Dogma, admitting that anger is useful.”

“Most Jedi cannot touch their anger without being tempted,” Maul said, not allowing any pride into his voice.  Yoda had lectured him extensively on the dangers of hubris, and it was a daily struggle for Maul to remain humble in the face of what he had accomplished.  “But it is too much of a part of me, instilled by Nightsister magic.  I cannot help but touch it, so I must control it.”

“Changing anger into strength is one of the fundamental skills of the Sith,” Venge observed.  “Instead of letting the Force guide your actions, becoming a conduit for it, you assert your dominance over it and compel it to manifest your will.  The power to do that comes from within yourself, from your anger.  What _you’re_ talking about, though, is different.  Widening the conduit with your anger rather than controlling the source.”

Maul said nothing.  It wasn’t a question, so he didn’t owe an answer.  Venge had the right idea, but Vaapad was more complex than that.  There was a reason it had taken a Jedi Master to create it.

“So,” Venge said.  “Your turn.”

“You said you did not have a choice about becoming a Sith,” Maul said.  “If you had been given a choice, knowing all you do now – would you have taken this path?  Would you have chosen to become a Sith?”

Much as Maul had needed to consider Venge’s last question, the Sith now had to think long and hard about Maul’s.  Finally, he said, “I enjoy the power.  I have the Force.  I am unbound by pity or vulgar morality.”

“That is not an answer,” Maul said.  “The answer is yes, or no.”

Venge locked eyes with him.  “There’s more to it than yes or no.  Yes, I would have still chosen to become a Sith, but under different circumstances.  Different – expectations.”

Maul sensed that was as good an answer as he was going to get to this particular question.  It was enough, in any case.  He had been right about the detachment he perceived in Venge.  The man carried out Sith business, and took pleasure in the evil things he did, but they were not his own choices.  His Master determined his aims and goals.

Which, Maul reflected, was not unlike the Jedi.  But the Jedi were taught to be selfless, to serve.  To be nothing but a tool for the Sith – it must have been difficult.

“I am sorry,” he said.

A harsh laugh ripped its way out of Venge, and he spat on the ground.  “Don’t pity me, Jedi.  You’re a shield pitying a sword.  Both of us are wielded.  We’re just used for different things.”

He stalked off into the woods, and Maul could tell that, at least for now, the game was done.


	3. An Emerging Complication

The climate grew uncomfortably cold as night fell.  Maul was glad of their decision to camp at night.  It would be impossible to travel in this weather and stay warm without the Force, and he preferred to conserve its power whenever possible.

He carefully gathered up the driest leaves and tinder he could find, and was about to start the slow, arduous process of setting them alight by friction when Venge snorted.  “Move.”

The Sith crouched low next to the fuel and extended a hand.  Brilliant blue sparks hissed from his fingers, instantly setting the leaves to blazing.  The wood followed suit moments later.  Venge straightened, grinning.  “The Dark Side: gain ultimate freedom, crush your enemies, make a campfire.”

Maul didn’t laugh.  But he did let a corner of his mouth quirk in amusement.  He seated himself at the fire.  On a whim – or possibly a nudge from the Force – he asked, “Ultimate freedom?”

Seating himself as well, Venge raised an eyebrow.  “Are we playing the question game again?”

“If you insist.  My question stands.”

“As I recall, _you_ are the one who insisted on the game.  But, yes.  Ultimate freedom.  Do you know the Sith Code?”

Maul frowned.  “No.  The Jedi Council does not allow anyone short of Master rank to study Sith lore.”

“Then here is some deliciously forbidden knowledge for you.”  Venge straightened a bit and his eyes flashed yellow.  The sound of his voice changed – it was distorted, hollow, as though it were coming from many mouths.

**_“Peace is a lie; there is only passion._ **

**_“Through passion I gain strength._ **

**_“Through strength I gain power._ **

**_“Through power I gain victory._ **

**_“Through victory, my chains are broken.”_ **

Maul felt an undeniable thrill shoot through him at the sound of those words.  He reached to the Force for calm, reminding himself that he was a Jedi.  His reaction, he knew, was natural; there was power in those words, power which had manifested itself through Venge as he had spoken them.

“You feel it too,” Venge said.  His voice was his own again, his eyes back to blue.  “You can sense the truth.”

“I sense a powerful point of view,” Maul replied.  “If it were not, the Sith would not have survived this long.”

“True.”  Venge relaxed his posture, propping himself up on one arm in front of the fire.  “All things to the Sith are stepping-stones to freedom.  Power is only good when used to get your way.  Victory is only good when it furthers your cause.  Strength is only good when you can use it for yourself.”

“But you serve another,” Maul said.  “What you do, you do for their ends.”

“Yes,” Venge mused.  “Yes, I do.”

There was silence for a moment before Maul decided to press him some more.  “Earlier, the fact seemed to displease you.”

“I sense a question phrased as a statement to dodge the question game.”

Maul sighed and began whittling his quarterstaff again.  He’d made a good deal of progress as they’d walked, the Force letting him do both without difficulty.  It was almost finished.  “It is nothing to me if you are dissatisfied with your lot in life, Sith.”

“A Jedi telling a lie,” Venge laughed.  “A true rarity.  No, I think it _is_ something to you.  Or did you believe I wouldn’t notice your attempts to establish common ground?  It’s a Jedi’s solemn duty to save the fallen.”

“It is a Jedi’s solemn duty to protect the Republic and innocent beings,” Maul said.  “I am trying to establish common ground because Master Qui-Gon saw something in you on Naboo.  I trust his judgment.”

“Your Master _wanted_ to see something in me,” Venge countered.  “I know the names and reputations of every single Jedi Master, Qui-Gon included.  The Grey Knight, flitting around the galaxy collecting every pathetic life-form he meets!”  He snorted harshly.  “I am not some lost waif for him, or you, to _save._   I made my choices.”

Maul raised a hairless brow.  “Even though you told me earlier you did not choose the Sith?”

For a moment, Venge looked as though Maul had caught him flat-footed.  “I –”

A hulking, armored figure exploded out of the trees behind him.  Maul, bewildered that it had managed to sneak up on two Force-users, hurled himself to his feet.  He was just in time to hear another heavy tread and cracking branches behind him.  Seeing that Venge was already in motion and confident the Sith could handle himself, Maul whirled to meet his own attacker.

The distinctive and menacing T-visor of a Mandalorian met his gaze.  The Mando was in full _beskar’gam_ , which made Maul wonder how the warrior had managed to smuggle the armor into the combat area.

Then the Mando was on him and there was no more time for questions.  He led with a stiff-fingered jab at Maul’s throat and transitioned into a whirling clothesline with his other arm, trying to smash his _beskar_ -clad limb into the Zabrak’s face.  Maul swept the jab aside with his quarterstaff and ducked the sweep.  He flipped his boot knife into a reverse grip, then stabbed it into the joint between the Mando’s _beskar_ and his groin.  The blade went in clean, penetrating the femoral artery, but the Mando landed a kick in Maul’s torso before he could drag the knife to open the wound.

Maul let himself fall back, leaving his knife buried in the Mando’s thigh.  He tucked into a reverse roll, springing back to his feet with a backward leap which took him safely above the campfire.  Thinking quickly, he plunged his staff into the fire, got its point beneath crackling logs, and hurled burning debris into the Mando’s face.

His helmet protected him, but the warrior still jerked back, arms instinctively flying up to guard his eyes.  Maul followed with a thrust to the torso.  The still-smoldering end of his staff slammed into the _beskar’gam_ hard enough to send the Mando staggering back two steps.  Maul fell on him, assailing him with half a dozen weapon strikes to his head and abdomen.

But the _beskar_ was too much for Maul to overcome.  Battered though he was, the Mando kept his feet and came at Maul again.  His attacks were more cautious this time, but each one carried the force of trained muscle and Mandalorian iron.  His overwhelming defensive advantage let him press Maul back, even though the Zabrak was the superior fighter.

Risking a glance over his shoulder, Maul saw Venge abandon subtlety in favor of survival.  The Sith bombarded his opponent with blue-white arcs of Force lightning which hissed and cracked as they struck.  But the Mando stayed on his feet, the _beskar_ nullifying most of the attack’s power.

Maul returned his attention to his own foe.  The Mando was fast and well-trained.  He would have been dangerous even if Maul had his saberstaff.  As it was, the Zabrak wasn’t sure this was a fight he could win without expending dangerous amounts of energy.

“Venge!” he snapped, whirling his staff to ward off another vicious sequence of blows.  “We’re falling back!”

“No!” Venge growled, his voice taut with strain and concentration.  “We take them _now!_ ”

“We are not going to win this fight,” Maul hissed.  “We need to pick the battleground.  Follow me, _now!_ ”  He smashed his staff full-bore into the Mando’s face, which made the warrior stumble back, momentarily stunned.  Maul seized the opening to grab Venge by his forearm and half-lead, half-drag the enraged Sith into the forest.

Clear of the Mandos, they let the Force empower them, sprinting at speeder velocities through the densely clustered trees.  They held the pace for a solid five minutes before they slowed to a halt.

“I had him!” Venge snarled before Maul could say anything.  His eyes were a radioactive yellow.  “I kriffing well had him, you blasted Jedi fool!”

“If I am a fool, what does that make you?” Maul asked.  “You followed me.”

“You had a hold on my arm!”

“One you could have broken easily.  You know as well as I that they had us surprised, separated, and on the defensive.  A tactical retreat was prudent.  You simply do not wish to admit it.”

Venge glowered.  “You are truly insufferable when you’re right.”  He closed his eyes and visibly released the anger.  When he opened them again the yellow glow had faded.  “I wonder if they had allies bring them that armor once they were here.”

“No,” Maul said.  “Two Mandalorians in full armor, but without weapons, and placed on the same team.  This must have been negotiated beforehand with the officials running the event.”  He gestured broadly around them.  “I expect there is someone here with a substantial bounty on their head, one the Mandalorians intend to claim.  They also intend to profit from it by betting on themselves in this death match while they are here.” 

He leveled a finger at Venge.  “And _you_ are here for one of them.”

For a long moment, Venge said nothing.  Then, incongruously, he chuckled.  Not a harsh laugh or a mocking sneer, but a genuine chuckle.  “Extraordinary.  You deserve your reputation.”

“Who are they?” Maul asked.

“Zao and Lu,” Venge replied.  “Not the best-known Mandalorian hunter pair, but competent.  They did some work for an ally of my Master, but were indiscreet about it.  Their deaths are going to be unexpected, but the right people will get the message – so, strictly speaking, I am here for _both_ of them.”  He smiled crookedly.  “And in point of fact, I’m the one they’re hunting.  They think I’m a Kuati criminal named Gylar with twenty thousand on my head.”

Maul nodded, absorbing the information.  It might be possible to research the Mandalorians’ contract history and determine who the ally in question was.  He doubted Venge would have revealed that detail if the Sith thought such a thing possible, but it bore investigation nonetheless.

“They cannot still think that after your display of Dark Side power.”

Venge shrugged.  “Probably not, but they’re as bound to the game as the rest of us.  Too late to turn back now.”  He stretched, almost catlike.  “Now, I believe you owe me three answers.  One for the Sith Code, one for my feelings on my lot in life, and one for all that information about our Mando friends.”

Resisting the urge to sigh, Maul just stared at him.  “Ask.”

“This is rather a difficult question, so I’ll be generous and have it count for all three.”

The Zabrak said nothing, merely waiting.

“Did you come here,” Venge asked, “for a chance to kill people?”

Maul opened his mouth to respond _no, of course not_.  But, to his surprise, the words would not come.

_Was it because they would be a lie?_

Venge smirked.  “Think on it.  No need to answer right away.”  He eyed the trees towering above them.  “I think we’re going to have to deal with the cold for now.  The safest place to get some rest will be up there.  No possible way for our Mando friends to climb these without giving us plenty of forewarning.”

Maul nodded mechanically.  The Sith’s question was ringing in his skull.

It was a restless night for him.


	4. An Honest Admission

Fondor’s night was shorter than Maul was used to.  He slept little and thought a great deal about Venge’s last question.

When dawn came, he leapt down out of the tree he’d selected the night before.  Jedi could go for days without food and suffer no ill effects, but water was harder to forgo.  Maul reached out with the Force to touch the morning dew gathered on the leaves, the mist drifting through branches.  He called to all of it, holding out his cupped hands.

The mist condensed and the dew leapt to him.  He filled his hands and drank three times before he felt the last of the free moisture subside.

“Couldn’t you at least have left some in the conservator for me?”

Venge dropped to the forest floor in an easy crouch, grinning faintly.  “Or do the Jedi not believe in share and share alike?”

Maul eyed him.  “There is more water deeper in the forest.”

“Just as in an apartment there’s more in the sink.  It’s an issue of principle.”

“I was not aware the Sith had any,” Maul said.

That made Venge snort.  “The Jedi makes a cutting remark, how novel.  Feeling a touch defensive after my last question, perhaps?”

Maul felt a prickling sensation on the flesh of his throat before he could answer.  Venge stiffened in the same instant, feeling it too.

“The zone’s shrunk past our position,” he said.  “Best we get moving if we don’t want to test the efficacy of these collars.”

Maul nodded and began to walk.  Venge let the silence linger for a while before asking, “Well?  No response to that?”

With a sigh, Maul looked at him.  “Tell me why you think I came here to kill people.”

Venge shrugged.  “The fact that the question bothers you so much, now that it’s been asked.  But before?  This is an event explicitly designed around killing people.  You still haven’t told me why you’re here, so my assumption is that you’re gathering evidence.  But you chose to do that by getting yourself placed in the game, where you’d have no choice but to kill to survive.  This certainly looks like expediency on the surface, but I wonder.  You use your anger, unlike so many other Jedi.  Is that affecting your judgment?”

This was precisely the question Maul had arrived at last night.  He still had no answer.

“All these men would die even if I were not here,” he said after a moment.  “And my presence means one person who would have been here is not.”

“Both true.  And both excellent justifications for your actions, just like the argument of expediency.  But did you reason all this out before the mission?  Or last night, when you most definitely were not sleeping?”

Maul clenched his teeth.  “Last night.”

“So you weren’t thinking when you got yourself thrown in here.”

“Not the way I am thinking now.”

“Had you been, would you have acted otherwise?”

“You must owe me three or four answers by now,” Maul observed humorlessly.

“Cheap answer.  _Would you have acted otherwise?_ ”

Maul closed his eyes and reached to the Force for the truth, _his_ truth.

“Yes.”

When he opened his eyes again, he expected Venge to be grinning, or at least to look triumphant.  But the Sith looked withdrawn, perhaps even troubled.  His gaze was fixed on his boots.

“What is wrong?” Maul asked.

Venge looked at him.  “I was just remembering what it was like when we fought on Naboo.  When you hit me in the chest.”  Slowly, deliberately, he pulled the right side of his shirt down to expose his torso.  Maul could see, beneath Venge’s lean muscles, a deformation in his ribs.  “They never healed right, you know.  Bacta, a brace.  Nothing worked.”  Now he grinned, but it was a pained expression.  “You broke me, Jedi.  My Master re-forged me, but I am not the same as I was.  I never will be.”

“And?” Maul asked.

Venge’s eyes flashed.  “And now I hear that the only man who ever bested me regrets coming here to kill people.”

Maul felt his lips peel back from his teeth.  “I did not say I came here for that.  I admit my use of anger for power may have affected my judgment, but I did not say that.”

“Bantha shit,” Venge said.  “You got yourself put into a game based on killing people.  When I called you out on that, you said you would have done otherwise if you’d thought it through.  You regret putting yourself in this game.  Where you will have to kill people.”

“I regret not giving more consideration to my actions.  I –”

He jerked back involuntarily when Venge roared at him.  “ADMIT IT!” he screamed.  “ADMIT THAT YOU CAME HERE TO KILL PEOPLE!  THAT YOU WANT TO KILL _ME!_   ADMIT IT, YOU JEDI HYPOCRITE!”

Summoning all his Jedi training, Maul held onto his calm.  “What is this admission to you?  Why do you want to hear it?”  He crossed his arms.  “I believe you owe me _at least_ one answer.”

Venge stared daggers at him for a long, tense moment, and Maul thought that he might actually attack despite the collars.  Then the Sith seemed to deflate.

“I was doing my very best to kill you during our duel on Naboo,” he said.  “You, meanwhile, were doing your best to _defeat_ me.  When you struck me, you could have killed me.  You deliberately didn’t.  Why?”

Maul didn’t hesitate this time.  “Killing you was not what a Jedi would do.  And I am a Jedi.”

Venge whirled away from him, anger suffusing every line of his body.  “Oh, you _are_ a Jedi.  Insufferable, self-righteous – _disgusting._ ”  He glared venom over his shoulder.  “And it keeps me up at night to know you _took pity_ on me.  That you think you can _save_ me.”

“You did not choose this,” Maul said.

“I AM A SITH!” Venge roared.  “Choice is irrelevant.  Regret is irrelevant.  All that matters is passion, strength, power, victory, freedom!  And yet you somehow beat me when you don’t care about _any of that!_   I could stomach it if you at least had the soul of a killer, but you don’t even have that!”

Maul reached for the Force again, seeking truth, seeking a way he could still reach Venge.  The Sith had clearly been building to this confrontation.

And then it hit him.  Perhaps he hadn’t been thinking when he’d allowed himself to become involved in this game.  But he would have sensed if he was doing something wrong.  The Force would have spoken to him.

Perhaps it guided him here, to this precise moment.

He reached a hand up to his right eye.  Carefully, he touched the tip of his index finger to the surface of his cornea, where the espionage contact lens rested.

Sensing that something was about to happen, Venge turned around.  He saw the Zabrak remove the tiny object from his eye, saw him hold it up so the light caught it.  His golden eyes went wide.  Maul could see that he knew, or at least had some idea, what it was.

Maul crushed it in his fist, grinding it into a useless lump of plastic and circuitry.

“I wanted to kill you,” he said.  “I wanted to rip out your throat and taste your blood.  I wanted to crack open your chest and tear out your heart.”  He took a step toward Venge.  “But I wanted one thing even more.  To be a Jedi.”

Venge laughed – a hollow, broken sound.  “I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.”

“It is not supposed to make you feel anything.  It is the truth.”  Maul let the remains of the contact lens drop to the forest floor.  “What you do with it is up to you.”

Venge had nothing to say to that.  They simply stared at one another for a long minute, Maul waiting for the Sith’s response, Venge obviously conflicted.

The sound of heavy boots tromping through the undergrowth snapped them out of the trance.

“Mandalorians,” Maul said.  He looked at Venge.  “Do you want to go kill them?”

Venge grinned at him.

“I really do.”


	5. A Final Confrontation

Maul and Venge spent the rest of the day either in hiding, moving stealthily, or dispatching other two-man teams.  It was becoming harder and harder to avoid the other players as the zone shrank.  They kept ahead of the Mandalorians, however.  To take them out, they needed both a plan and a battleground.

The forest itself provided the battleground.  By design, the zone was centered around a truly enormous tree, its roots the size of speeders.  The uneven terrain it created made for exciting matches for the bettors to watch.  For the two Force-users, it favored their mobility over their armor-clad opponents.  Footing was difficult to come by.

The plan they provided themselves, hatched the night before the final day of the contest.  On the third day, the zone would shrink to the very edge of the tree’s roots, less than a hundred square meters.  There would be nowhere to hide or run.  Every surviving player would fight beneath the branches of the tree.

It would all end there.

* * *

Maul crouched just at the edge of the giant tree’s clearing, concealed in the undergrowth.  His collar was beginning to sting him, trying to herd him into the open.  He had some time before it became dangerous, however, and he was going to use it.

All around the trunk of the massive tree, beings were fighting and dying.  Some fought bare-handed, or using the natural weapons given to them by Nature – teeth, claws, stings, spurs.  Some used improvised weapons culled from the forest.  Sunk into the Force, Maul could feel their pain, their anger, their desperation.  The emotional storm was almost a physical thing, souring the air around the tree.  Maul speared a nearby holocam with a dark look.  The bettors would all be watching, drinking, shouting, laughing, cursing.  He wished he could find them and make them regret their participation in this tragedy.

He wished he could slap collars around _their_ necks and put them through this.

That was a thought born of the Dark Side.  He let it pass over and through him.  Those beings wagering on the suffering and death of others would have justice done to them in due time, by people charged with that duty.  His destiny lay down a different path.

The collar began to reach the point of actual harm.  Maul knew it was time.  He picked up his quarterstaff, took a breath, and moved in.

He sprang into the open, staff whirling.  A Gotal spun to confront him, fists raised.  Without a thought, Maul smashed his weapon against the humanoid’s cranial sensory horns.  His opponent went down instantly, unconscious.  His collar immediately went off, killing him, and from three meters away a scream sounded in unison.  Maul’s lip twitched.  The architects of the game had gone to extra lengths at this stage to ensure only two survivors.

Naturally, he was counting on it.

Two Rodians moved on him, wielding wooden shivs.  Maul took one in the gut with a blindingly fast snap kick.  He whirled his staff to bat away the other’s clumsy thrust before leaping straight up, his staff arcing back over his head, and bringing it down with all his strength, weight, and the force of gravity behind it.

The Rodian crumpled, his skull shattered.  His companion died a moment later.  Maul took no pleasure in it, did not allow himself to.  The voices rose again, as they always did, but he knew now how to turn them to his use.  _Dodge.  Strike.  Kill.  Leap.  Duck.  Strike.  Kill._   His power surged as he cut through the unfortunate beings beneath the tree, dropping man after man.  _Trandoshan.  Eye gouge, break jaw, throat jab.  Finished.  Twi’lek.  Lekku strike, ear box, break spine.  Finished._   Cold, ruthless, mechanical precision.  He could mourn later.  He could regret later.  Now, there was the mission.

Now, there was survival.

Two humans charged him, both wielding thick branches as clubs.  Maul ducked the first wild swing, bringing his staff around in a spinning leg sweep.  As the human fell, Maul pivoted off the root and landed a kick in his midsection, sending him flying two meters to slam into the trunk.  He kipped up into a tornado spin, his staff crushing down on the second human’s shoulder.  The club fell from the man’s hand as his clavicle broke.  A follow-up blow to his chest dropped him.

There was a movement in the Force.  Maul had the vague image of something predatory cutting through water, a menacing presence approaching.  _The Mandalorians._   They were on the other side of the tree, crushing the other players just as easily as Maul was.  There had never been any doubt in his mind that they would be the final enemy to face.

He began making his way around the tree, intent on attacking while they were still dealing with other threats.  Another Zabrak, one without Dathomirian tattoos, rushed him, trying to head-butt him in the throat.  Maul slammed his staff down on the crown of the other Zabrak’s skull, hammering his head into the root below, and kept going.

The Mandalorians came into view as he rounded the tree.  All of _their_ opponents were already dead.  They were simply standing there, waiting.

“We knew we’d be seeing you again,” one of them called.  “Where’s your friend?  The one that shoots lightning out of his kriffing fingers?”

“Nearby,” Maul said.

The Mando laughed.  “Trying to sit out the brawl?  That’s not how this game works, friend.”

“I am fairly certain the game is not supposed to include _beskar’gam,_ ” Maul said.

He couldn’t see the Mando’s sneer, but he could certainly sense it.  “It’s helpful to have friends in high places.”

“To give you armor to hide behind.”

The second Mando sprang at him.  There was a gleam in his right hand that Maul quickly recognized as his own boot knife.  Clearly they’d managed to get it out of the man’s thigh without killing him – no surprise there.  Maul let the Mando press him back.  The uneven footing made the warrior hesitate, slowing his charge, leaving him open.  Maul threw a kick at the man’s groin, but the _beskar’gam_ ’s coverage was extensive.  He drew a grunt of pain and little else.

A flash of precognition prompted him to twist away from a knife thrust at his kidney while simultaneously bringing his staff around to deflect a flying kick from the first Mando.  The two of them began to press him, probing his defenses, keeping him in retreat.  He wove easily from root to root, taking advantage of his superior mobility to keep them from pinning him down.  All he needed was one solid opening.

The two-on-one battle zigzagged them around the tree, Maul leaping and somersaulting and whirling his staff to stay ahead of their two-pronged assault.  As he retreated, one of the few other remaining players, a large male Togruta, tried to seize him in a pinning hold from behind.  Moving without hesitation, letting years of training automatically guide his muscles, Maul fired a reverse elbow thrust into the Togruta’s gut, then threw the alien over his shoulder in one smooth motion.  The second Mando staggered as a hundred kilos of Togruta slammed into him, but his warrior’s training held.  Maul watched the Togruta fall away, the boot knife buried in the side of his neck.  There was a howl of pain from somewhere overhead; it quickly turned into an anguished scream before trailing off into silence.

A moment later, another Togruta fell twitching from the branches overhead.  Maul saw his chance.  He reached out to the Force, let its power flow through him.  He touched his anger as well, letting it sing through his muscles and enhance his perception.  The dead Togruta seemed to hang in the air, suspended between him and the oncoming Mandalorians.

Maul spun himself through a turn, throwing his strength and centripetal action and the power of the Force behind a staff blow straight into the dead Togruta.

The staff cracked clean in half from the power of the attack, but it accomplished its purpose.  The dead Togruta went sailing into the first Mandalorian like a shot fired from a cannon.  He went tumbling, thrown off his feet and clanking down the sloping roots of the tree – leaving his partner alone and vulnerable.

Venge, who had somehow managed to avoid the Togruta stalking in the branches of the tree with him, fell on the second Mandalorian.  Like a black-clad wraith he leapt down, landing atop the Mando’s back and locking his arms around the man’s helmeted head.  “Now!” he shouted. 

Maul didn’t need Venge to tell him that.  He dropped to his knees and went into a Jedi healing trance.  He slowed his hearts to a single beat per minute, stopped his breathing, collapsed his consciousness to a single tiny mote of awareness hovering just outside his body.

By any objective scientific measurement, he died.

Venge’s collar lit up with lethal force, but the Sith channeled its power through himself and straight into the Mando he held in a death grip.  Empowered by the immense energy surging through him, he burned the man alive inside his armor, the _beskar_ not offering nearly enough protection to save him.  The Mando had just enough time to loose a short, confused scream before his death.

His partner died only seconds later.

Maul released himself from the healing trance, returning his vital signs to normal.  Venge’s collar stopped pouring current into him in response.  He let the Mando drop limply to the ground.

“That worked surprisingly well,” he said with a grin.

Nodding, Maul cast his glance around the clearing, reaching out with his Force senses as well.  As far as he was able to determine, he and Venge were alone.  They were the winners of the game.

The thought brought him no comfort.  He would have some atoning and reevaluating to do when he returned to the Jedi Temple.  His encounter with Venge had shown him that, if nothing else.

As if on cue, their collars gave an audible powering-down noise and loosened around their throats.  Maul removed his immediately, but stowed it inside his robe rather than throw it away.  With his recordings gone, he would need physical evidence in addition to his testimony and intercepted holocam footage.

Venge removed his own collar.  “The twist,” he said, “is that, since we’ve won, we’re free to go.  But _where_ is the question.  They don’t send transport or help.  We’re given nothing for surviving.”

“An effective way to ensure that reports of these games remain controlled,” Maul said.  He looked at the Sith.  “I assume you planned ahead and have transportation nearby.”

Smirking, Venge gestured up at the tree.  Maul looked, and before his eyes he could see a vessel shimmering into visibility in midair, above the tree’s peak.

“It’s been waiting for me,” Venge said.  “I’d offer you a ride, given that we’ve reached something of an understanding over the course of this little adventure.  But I’m sure you’ll understand if I just leave you here to die instead.”

Maul did not smile, but he raised a brow.  “You think you are the only one who planned ahead?”

Venge opened his mouth, probably to ask what Maul meant, but the whine of an approaching shuttle answered the question for him.  With a sudden burst of noise, a Jedi transport wheeled into position over the clearing, thrusters firing to keep it from slamming into the Sith craft hovering above the tree.  Maul saw its belly hatch open, and from twenty meters up two figures dropped to the forest floor.

Qui-Gon was still hale and fit for his age, though more of his hair and beard had gone to grey.  His lightsaber burned especially bright green against the purple and yellow leaves of the forest.

Now fourteen, Anakin Skywalker was all limbs, his body going through the human maturation process of puberty.  He brandished a blue lightsaber, and wore a black leather vest over dark robes, as well as a fierce expression.

“Maul,” Qui-Gon said calmly as the two of them moved to stand beside him.  “Are you alright?”

“I am fine, Master,” Maul replied.  Strictly speaking, he no longer needed to call Qui-Gon by that particular honorific, but it felt wrong not to.  He suspected it always would.  “Your timing is impeccable.”

Anakin smirked.  “Of course it is.  Part of the job description.”

Venge called out to the young man.  “So you’re the brat who destroyed the droid control ship over Naboo.  You have no idea how much time and money you cost the Sith that day.”

“Qui-Gon says I was a difficult child,” Anakin laughed.  “Let’s take him, Master.”

“No,” Maul said.

Qui-Gon, who had been about to move in on the attack, froze.  “What?”

“We let him go,” Maul replied.  “I owe him that much.”

Venge snarled at him.  “You don’t _owe_ me anything, Jedi.  We had a walk in the woods, a few fights together, some interesting conversation.  Don’t pretend there’s anything more than that here.”

Crossing his arms, Maul said, “I believe there is more to you than being a pawn of the Sith.  I believe you have the potential to be much more than you are.  Whether you will be a friend or an enemy I do not know, but the Force tells me that this is not our last encounter.”

Anakin gawked at Maul.  “Maul, he’s a kriffing _Sith!_   It’s our _job_ to take him down!”

“Language, Anakin,” Qui-Gon said mildly.  “And it is not, in fact, our _job_ to take him down.  It is our job to protect the Republic, and to save innocent lives.”  He speared Venge with a penetrating look.  “If by letting him go we allow more innocents to be endangered, that is an abrogation of our duty.  But if Maul senses potential in him to be more than he is, I trust his judgment.  A Jedi does not seek conflict if it can be avoided.”

Venge just stared at them for a long moment before shaking his head in disgust.  “It is truly a wonder that the Jedi have survived for so long.”  He shrugged.  “Fine.  By all means let me go.  You won’t hear any argument from me.  Just know that the Force is absolutely right – this is _not_ our last encounter.  And I can guarantee that you won’t survive the next one.”

Maul watched him summon the Force and let it propel him into the branches of the tree, taking him up to his waiting starship.

“Well,” Anakin said, “now that we’ve let a sworn enemy of the Republic go because of _potential_ , I hope your mission was at least successful?”

The last three days echoed through Maul’s mind.  He had come here intending to expose the truth of this deadly game, and he had done that.  But he was certain the Force had had other plans for him as well, other reasons for bringing him to this place at this time.

“I believe so,” he said.  “But I suspect I will not know for some time.”

They boarded the Jedi transport together and left Fondor behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading! Venge and Maul will be back soon.


End file.
